


He likes to bake the muggle way

by handwritten (onefromanotherworld)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baker Harry, Chocolate Frog Cards, Don’t copy to another site, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Howlers (Harry Potter), M/M, Married Life, Near Future, Not Canon Compliant, Teacher Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onefromanotherworld/pseuds/handwritten
Summary: The back of Harry’s chocolate frog card reads as follows:Harry James Potter (1980-?)Currently DADA professor at HogwartsNamed ‘The boy who lived’ for being the only person known to date who has survived the killing course twice. He defeated Dark Wizard Lord Voldemort at the Battle Of Hogwarts in 1998. More recently, became the first person to effectively counteract a red Howler. Potter likes to play Quidditch and bake the muggle way in his free time.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It all started with this post (https://fencer-x.tumblr.com/post/187180914466/rose-grangerweasleyisbae-torgan?fbclid=IwAR3URjwOJKxrX0aO7MkNi8XjaLeTMa0Kldi6JAs0lpK_mAFBjOXzWIYeso4).  
> Somehow, the rest is @chalk-or-wiu 's fault.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical free morning in grown-up HP's life.

There were many things Harry hadn’t expected of the life he now had. The first one being past 17 years old. At some point he had hoped to become an Auror, now he was a teacher. He had never thought much of romantic love because, honestly, who had the time? Nevertheless, he had managed to get married almost two years before. Also, there had been countless times when he couldn't wait to be of age and able to not do anything the muggle way ever again. Now he baked with his hands.

  
Molly had offered to teach him one of those early mornings a little after the Battle, back when he still had trouble sleeping for long and without holding his wand. They had started with something simple —cookies— and it wasn’t long before Harry was trying recipes of his own. Being able to experiment and fail without risking his life held his attention long enough for him to feel at peace.  
Measure, mix, chill, scoop, warm and repeat.

It was easy, it was tranquil, it kept him focused, it was great.

He made batch after batch: plain, with chocolate chips, with jam, with peanut butter. Molly was ecstatic at his talent and interest since none of her other kids cared much for the kitchen, but it wasn't long until she taught him how to magic the calories away. Otherwise, there were only so many cookies that one could eat without feeling guilty.

  
When he finally felt he could whip up a batch with his eyes closed, Hermione gave him a new challenge without meaning to. She had hummed appreciatively after taking a bite of his new pumpkin chocolate chip cookies while she read a book on the history of the witches-muggles relationship and wondered out loud if magic could affect flavour or if having a nack for something could be a type of magic on its own. Only one way to find out, Harry thought.

  
The next day he started trying the muggle way and found it cleared his mind the way he had always longed for. It was challenging enough to keep everything else at bay. Little by little he started trying new things, first with magic, then the muggle way until he was able to use magic only when he was in a hurry.

  
Once they were back in school and back to being fed by the school-elves, he was convinced he could taste the magic in the food. He tried to take his mind off of it, telling himself he was imagining things until Ron sighed one morning.

"It's just not the same, is it?", he said taking a bite of his piece of toast. "I swear it has a bit too much of something, I don't know what. I miss your bread, mate."

  
So he had started baking again. It was easy enough to go down to the kitchens, and he had so much free time thanks to the dreams that tended to cut his nights short and the lack of an extra-curricular mission to work on. It got better eventually, but he really appreciated having had something to keep him busy back then.

Years later, he still had the habit of getting up early on his off-days to bake a small loaf of bread for breakfast. His day felt infinitely better when he could have a fresh slice with jam. And this way he was able to spend some time with Hedwig, who couldn't fly for long nowadays but still kept to her schedule and tried to beg for some bread crumbs even though she knew she didn't like them. That was one of the few things that had met younger Harry's expectations. It was a good one.

  
While his bread baked, he liked to make himself a cuppa and do a quick cleaning of the kitchen. It hadn't taken them long to decide the dark decor of Grimmauld Place had to go if they were going to make it their home. Draco had a better relationship with Kreacher, so he was mostly in charge of that front. The kitchen ended up being an almost-white silver with green countertops and dark green accents since it was where Harry spent most of his time at home. The living room, where Draco preferred to work, on the other hand, was warmer, with red tones all around. Harry enjoyed looking around the kitchen once it was back to spotless, he never got tired of the space they had created together.

  
The warm smell that reached him from the oven took him out of his reverie to tell him it was almost time. He took a sip of his tea before swishing his wand to open the door. It hadn’t taken much to decide taking out the trays without magic was not worth it. This way meant fewer burns and he had enough marks on his skin to last him a lifetime or two. His eleven-year-old self would probably be disappointed knowing his two most used spells were so common, though —even if they were non-verbal.

  
He had just placed the loaf on the table to cool off when a white howler came floating his way like a cat looking for attention without wanting to seem needy and stayed in front of him, waiting as he took another sip of his tea. For a long time, he had wondered if it wasn’t easier to send him a Patronus, but they lacked the drama and tradition, he supposed. He was very thankful that this kind would wait until the recipient was ready and not be a ticking bomb. Harry loved making them wait, they tended to do a tiny kind of affronted dance that always made him smile. By the time he decided to open them, they were normally harrumphing. He liked poking them then so they knew he was ready to listen. He started prepping a tray with the cooling bread, butter, jam, honey, fruit and another cup of tea while it spoke, the haughtiness of its voice making his smile grow.

>   
>  _“To whom it may concern because, rest assured, that person is not me”, it started that day. He snorted. “I find myself APPALED at the carelessness with which I have been abandoned to the harshness of the elements this morning. This, of course, would not present a problem had it not been previously agreed that a civil greeting would happen first thing. Manners, where have they gone? It is on these grounds that I demand a prompt meeting in no longer than ten minutes. Expect a second missive in the event of tardiness..._
> 
> _Don’t even think about it, Potter!”_

  
Once it was done, the letter proceeded to float to the bin before breaking itself offendedly into tiny neat pieces over it. So proper.

  
It was always so tempting to make him send a red howler, but it took too long to get him in a good mood afterward. So, Harry poured himself a second cuppa, levitated the tray, and went back to their room. After all, he had to make amends for being so rude.

  
No, he definitely hadn’t imagined his life this way, nor being so happy with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just revive Hedwig because I can? Yes, yes I did. Blink and you'll miss the other one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little 8th year parenthesis.

On the second day back to school, he had been approached by a very official-looking white envelope that had made him do a pretty good imitation of a chameleon and turn the same color. What could the Ministry want from him? He had only gotten back, he had not done anything dangerous, he hadn't even been among muggles all summer! He had thought he was finally free from all responsibilities, at least for this last school year. He just wanted to turn the page, have a new chapter in his life, why wouldn't they let him just be?

Hermione saw the panic in his eyes and dragged him back to the classroom they had just exited so he could breathe and they could open it in private.

> " _Potter_ ", it began.

Harry hadn't expected to hear Malfoy's voice. Hadn't he come back too? He was pretty sure he had. And how had he gotten a position in the Ministry if he hadn't? It wasn't as if his family was in the best of social standings nowadays.

> " _Please meet me by the lake after lessons end this afternoon. Signed, Draco Malfoy_ ".

“Well, that was odd”, Ron said to break the silence that followed. “What do you think the git wants now?”

“Only one way to find out, I guess.”

They had offered to accompany him, not that he couldn’t protect himself, but Harry decided to go alone. 

Harry found Malfoy alone. It was odd, he didn’t pay much attention to Crabbe and Goyle if possible, but their absence was rather evident. It was like seeing Malfoy without his own shadow.

He approached as non-threatening as he could and raised his hand to show he was wandless when Malfoy turned around to see him.

“You came”, he said with a hint of surprise. Harry noticed how he looked behind him. Maybe he too seemed odd.

“It was a very formal letter. It seemed rude not to.”

Malfoy nodded once, approvingly.

They stood there not saying a word for a while, looking at the reflection of the sun on the water. Harry had learned how to wait during the previous year.

Finally, Malfoy took a deep breath and straightened a bit more. Harry turned to look at him again.

“I want to apologize.” He took another letter from his robes and handed it to Harry. “I wrote everything here, you don’t have to read it. I just... I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything. But, in short, I want to apologize for being a fool and stubborn and stupid. I know it doesn't make up for everything I did, for anything actually, and I'm so mad for not challenging the things that didn't make sense... and I am not expecting for us to be friends any time soon but I was hoping we could at least be civil to one another from now on.”

Harry took the letter and turned it around in his hands as Malfoy spoke. The envelope was rather thick, he must have worked really hard on it. He considered making a joke about how much longer he thought it would’ve been to fit all the stupid things he had done in his life, but bit his tongue for once. Malfoy was actually trying. Maybe it was time to let bygones be bygones.

He opened the envelope and skimmed over the contents. He wanted to give it his full attention, though. “You mind if I read this tonight and give you an answer tomorrow? Same place, same time?"

Malfoy looked a little scared for a moment before composing himself and nodding. "That seems appropriate."

Harry read Malfoy's letter in the night and thought about his answer until the sun started to peak out on the horizon. He took a piece of parchment and wrote a letter of his own. It wasn't as neat and well thought as the one he had received, but he liked the parallel. He thought he saw a tiny smile when Malfoy received it.

And so it began.

Little by little, they kept sending each other little notes, mostly to meet somewhere to study since Harry wanted to give Ron and Hermione some privacy now that it was an option, and Malfoy was trying his best to socialize outside of his own house. Malfoy's were always in an envelope, Harry's flew by in the form of a paper airplane. Malfoy's openings never failed to make him smile too. His favourite was "To the savour of the wizarding world, whose presence I barely tolerate." Who could've imagined Draco Malfoy actually had a sense of humour?

They were never seen during lessons, which meant the teachers didn't object, and soon they were just part of the background.

\---

"Wouldn't it be simpler to use Patronus?", Harry asked one day as he sat in front of Malfoy in the library.

He didn't bother looking up from his essay to answer. "Wouldn't know, I can't cast one. Besides, they lack the privacy of a sealed letter."

Harry was surprised at the confession but nodded. "Maybe you're right. I could still teach you how to cast one if you want."

Malfoy just hummed.

\---

Being a legal adult in their last year of school meant that they were allowed to go away on weekends as long as they were on time on Monday or before curfew at night. The golden trio plus Malfoy enjoyed apparating to London once in a while when neither school nor their homes seemed like an option. On one of those occasions, they passed by a pizza place. 

"It's been so long!", Hermione said. "I could go for a slice". She turned to look at the rest. Harry was quick to nod in agreement. Ron and Malfoy, however, looked confused.

Ron shrugged. "If it's food, I'm in."

"It's three to one. But you better not be poisoning me."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Harry said as they entered the place. "You two never had pizza?"

Hermione was already looking at the options to order for them and told them to find somewhere to sit. 

"Don't think so," Ron said as he sat down. "It's a muggle thing, right?"

Harry was shocked. "I know wizards forgot to check on muggles around the 15th century, but seriously?"

Malfoy rose an eyebrow at the question and turned to look at Hermione.

Harry punched him lightly on the arm. "Shut up".

"Care to enlighten us with your great knowledge, then, oh Wise One?" Harry never would’ve thought he would enjoy having Malfoy teasing him. 

Meanwhile, Ron decided it was time to help Hermione with their order. He supposed he would still get some answers when the food arrived either way.

It was, of course, a success. Even Malfoy had deemed it ‘palatable’, which they all knew now was code for wanting to return.

“We can come back after the holidays”, Harry had assured him.

“I was certain you would have been thinking of how to make one of your own by now, oh bakery one.”

“Huh?”

“You can’t eat anything that came out from an oven without getting this look that says you’re already thinking how to get a recipe.”

Harry turned to look at Ron and Hermione for confirmation.

“He’s not wrong”, Ron said grimacing just a bit.

Harry hummed. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“...and there it is,” Draco said satisfied. He turned to look at Hermione. “Granger, may I borrow whatever book you were reading on the history of the division between muggles and wizards?”

They all looked surprised for a bit. Hermione was the first to recover. “Of course, I’ll have it by Monday”, she said smiling, happy to have someone to share her books with.

\---

It took longer than any of them expected, but Draco didn't mind keeping Harry company and helping with testing whenever he could. Exams were fast approaching, though, and Draco had been considering making him take a pause and dragging him out of the kitchens when he received an actual letter instead of the usual airplane. Intrigued, he put aside his homework to read it at once.

He couldn’t help but laugh at his salutation of “My beloved Archenemy”. Harry had started mocking Draco’s and each one was more ridiculous than the last one. Draco had a hard time denying he loved them.

> _It would be the greatest honor if you would meet me this Friday for dinner at the Room of Requirement. I believe I have finally perfected my pizza recipe and would like your honest opinion. Feel free to bring wine. Please let me know if you can make it?  
> _
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Harry_
> 
> _PS. How did I do?_

Draco cast a quick _muffliato_ to drown his mixture of squeal and laughter. He put his head on the table to further cover his reaction at Harry’s attempt at a formal invitation. He was adorable. He took a moment to take out his writing kit to compose a quick answer to RSVP before Harry started second-guessing himself. It was a good thing he had thought of buying some wine beforehand for the moment Harry finally deemed his pizza edible or he would have been in trouble finding a bottle on such short notice. He had so much to teach him. 

Draco was excited to notice no signs of Granger or Weasley when he arrived that Friday afternoon to meet Harry. It wasn’t the first time they had dinner on their own, but it was the first time he had received a "formal" invitation. On top of that, he was waiting for him outside the Room and seemed to light up a little when he saw Draco arrive. At least, he liked to think so.

Harry opened the door for him to reveal the Room had transformed in a small, narrow cobblestone street with antique lamps on one wall and small topiaries along the other, and a sign that read “Harry’s” to make it look like an outdoor restaurant with a table for two, and the ceiling full of twinkling stars. The faint sound of a classic guitar reached him, followed closely by the smell of bread just out from the oven. Draco felt warm inside.

“So? What do you think?”, Harry said after Draco finished his first slice. “Is it as good as the one from the restaurant?”

Draco took a sip of wine before answering. Harry didn’t know whether he liked or hated that he took his time and looked so good while doing so. 

“It’s better”, he finally said. “The mozzarella is very fresh, and the tomatoes are full of flavour, the crust is thinner and easier to eat. I can tell the effort behind it, it’s really good.” He smirked before adding: “and I appreciate very much that you chose quality ingredients. I was afraid the heir of the Potter fortune was a tightwad.”

Harry laughed while throwing his napkin at him “Tosser. After I feed you…”

Draco managed to dodge it. “I’m sorry, ‘beloved archenemy’. Please don’t throw me back to the streets,” he said joining his hands in front of him.

Harry laughed even harder. “Shut up. I didn’t know how to start the letter.”

“And you went with ‘beloved archenemy’? Where did you even get that from?” Draco finally broke down and joined in the laughter.

Harry just shrugged.

“Anyway… you really liked the pizza, then?”

Draco nodded while taking another slice. Harry smiled.

“I mean, I don’t know if it is as good as Italian pizza, but it’s a definite improvement to the one we had.”

Harry looked down, pleased. He started tracing the pattern on the table before asking. “Would you like to find out?”

“What do you mean?” Draco said before taking another bite.

Harry kept tracing the pattern, trying to focus and not change the subject at the last moment. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking about what to do when school is over.”

“I thought you were planning on joining the Aurors”.

Harry nodded. “I was, but… I don’t think I want that anymore. Now that we have been at peace for a few months…” He sighed. “I think I want to keep it that way as long as possible. And I was thinking how I got to travel a lot before the Battle…” Draco flinched a little. He still did. “But I didn’t get to see much. So, I want to travel.” He stopped tracing and finally raised his head to look at Draco. “I want to go to the continent, where I’m less known, maybe go to Italy and try some proper pizza, and I was wondering if… if you wanted to come with?”

It took him a moment to process the invitation. “You really mean that?” He dared to hope.

Harry nodded. “I do.” He inched his hand closer to Draco’s. “While planning, I kept thinking about what _we_ could do, instead of what _I_ could do. So…”

Draco smiled and mirrored Harry’s movement. “Well, if you really really mean it. I’d love to. I have also been thinking and… you know that book Granger lent me? The one on the muggle-wizard division?”

“You can call her by her name by now, you know that?”

Draco shook his head.

Harry understood. “What about the book then?”

“It made me realize how little we are taught about everything, really. We have compulsory Muggle studies now, but we still don’t see the connection between both worlds. And I believe that, maybe, if we knew more, we wouldn’t have been… I wouldn’t have been so willing to see the differences…” He shook his head again. "In any case, I had been thinking too about going out and see how the world is like...” He took a deep breath. “Yes, let’s do it.” He smiled shily, waiting for Harry’s thoughts.

Harry’s smile had been growing slowly as Draco talked, happy to notice once more how much he had changed in the last months, how much he liked him now. When Draco agreed, he felt brave enough to finally take his hand, beaming. At last, he felt ready for school to be over, and to begin the next chapter of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were wondering, Harry's salutation comes from this post https://earlgreytea68.tumblr.com/post/187972926556


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Harry's greatest achievement.

As a teacher, Harry’s place should not have been in the Hospital Wing for injuries of his own. Still, old habits die hard and all, which meant that sometimes he got to visit Madame Pomfrey. The first time, he had stopped a quaffle with his face. The second time, he had been at the end of Fred and George’s new hit. They told him there had been another incident with a moving staircase but he couldn’t remember it to save his life. In any case, he now had a corner of his own in the infirmary and not because he was a teacher but because Draco Malfoy had a flair for the dramatic and a love for red howlers to convey his fear for his husband’s life. If only there was a way to mute the damn things.

They all started with something along the lines of "To the chosen one who has improbably managed to live past the age of nine". And always followed with a litany of about five minutes on how impossible he was for still being a regular visitor instead of a good example for his students, even whenever Harry hadn’t been in the wing for more than 30 seconds. People had already developed a reflex to spell their ears to lower the volume as soon as they saw one floating down the corridor. It didn't stop anyone from having to listen to it but at least it was manageable.

After the third one, Harry had made it his new life mission to find a spell to counteract them.

He started with a _Quietus_ , but of course, it could not be that simple. People would have found out already, wouldn't they? _Silencio_ was no better. And with that, Harry had covered all the sound-related spells he knew.

He remembered _Langlock_ a few days later. It was good for people and spirits, maybe it would also work on paper. To both his delight and annoyance, it did do something for all two seconds before carrying on.

He was more than disgusted with himself when he remembered _Mimblewimble_. He couldn't believe he had actually learned something from Lockhart. Never one to disappoint him, though, that one also didn't work and he ended with a howler screaming gibberish at him. Doubly annoying, just like the teacher.

Hermione being Hermione arrived one day with the suggestion of _Oscausi_ and the warning to not use it on a person, but she figured it would be alright on a letter. It worked. Almost. It did seal the first mouth, but the howler ended up creating a new one to talk at twice the volume.

Meanwhile, Draco, of course, decided to help Harry's cause in his unique way by sending him a howler on every little excuse he could think of. "Practice makes perfect, dear", he said to him all smug and unrepentant one night during dinner, the light of the candles highlighting the challenge in his eyes. Harry was torn for a moment trying to decide if he wanted to kiss him or hex him. The first option won, of course. It always did.

_Eblublio_ and every other containment charm he could think of were great options for a while. At least until he was drowning in unopened howlers and started running out of place to put them. He reduced them, burned a few, felt like he had opened the siren's egg all over again at the cacophony that followed, and vowed to open each one as they arrived. For a while, reducing them was the way to go. It was still annoying, but manageable.

Finally, the answer came to him in the kitchen.

Along with his little Howler problem, he had reached the stage of learning how to make a soufflé the muggle way. Draco knew better than to interfere there and his baking time had become a respite in more ways than one. Nevertheless, he wasn't making much progress as every single one ended deflating at the last moment. He had gotten a couple of books on the subject, and tried every trick he heard about --which weren’t that many really since he hung out mostly with witches. Some of the parents of his students had been kind enough to write to him, though.

He had tried switching from sweet to savory, different kinds of eggs, over folding, underfolding, changing the type of plate and temperature, leveling with a knife, greasing the dish... every single thing. That day, as he watched the oven, he kept telling himself the 55th time was the charm, he was finally getting this right.

Someone somewhere wanted him to be truly productive on that lovely afternoon because, moments before, Draco had just discovered Hedwig had left him part of his dinner on his new draft and Draco had felt so mad he had taken out a red howler despite knowing Harry was trying his soufflé again. That would teach them both.

Harry was twirling his wand, crouched in front of the oven, waiting for the perfect moment to open it when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. He froze for a millisecond before the adrenaline took charge, it had been a while. In one single movement, he straightened up, said a very energetic “Don’t!” while pointing at the howler with his wand and turned to open the door ready with a containment charm if needed. But the sound never came, which he failed to notice when he saw his soufflés as perfect as they could be. He counted to 30 before daring to breathe.

Next thing he knew, Draco was at his side, asking if he was alright. Harry’s vision was blurry, he was crying. He hugged Draco, he kissed him, he couldn’t believe he had finally done it.

Draco was very confused for a moment but held Harry tight. To think a dessert had more power over the chosen one than the dark lord himself! He looked at the soufflés as Harry turned to show him with all the excitement of a puppy. He regretted having sent the howler for a second before remembering he hadn’t heard it go off. He turned around to look for it and found his letter unfolded on the floor. Not shredded as they normally did after delivering their message, but as if he had just finished writing it.

“Harry”, he said poking him on the shoulder to break the spell of his bakery. “What did you do to the howler?”

Harry turned to look at him confused, then followed his line of sight to find the second most improbable thing of his day.

“I... I don’t know. I was worried about my soufflés so I just pointed at it and said don’t”. He raised his voice at the end, not convinced with his own answer.

It was Draco’s turn to use the excitement and started shaking his husband by the shoulders. “Harry! You did it! You managed to stop one!" He smiled impishly as he saw understanding dawn on Harry's face. "And at the same time, you finished with your nightmare of a dessert! How can we ever live to the standards you set for us, oh chosen one?”, he asked taking the back of one of his hands to his forehead.

And with that, Harry finally laughed. The adrenaline and shock replaced with absolute joy and a bit of awe. “I’m sorry, but I don't think you can without a profecy involved. However, I reckon you could still hang around for a while...” Draco snorted as he only did around Harry. “...if you try my soufflé at once and tell me it’s the best thing you have ever tried in your life”.

Draco shook his head, amused, and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You talk too much, Potter. Let’s have it then.”

They took the soufflés to the living room, their official tasting site because it had a good window and Draco liked to see what he was eating instead of just “scarfing down his food”. The wine he had selected for the moment weeks before complimented the flavour perfectly.

It wasn’t until the next Monday that they remembered the howler when Harry ended once again in the hospital wing and Draco decided to keep with their tradition. By lunchtime, a Ministry official had arrived to certify the event. By dinner, there was new a 'Harry Potter' chocolate frog card in circulation, and Harry finally understood the excitement of being in one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I hope you liked it and that my lack of experience in the kitchen isn't too evident, I tried.  
> To those who left kudos, thank you so much, you give me life.  
> And if you see something terribly non-brit, please let me know.


End file.
